Through the Looking Glass
by angstydaydreams
Summary: Sheppard ends up on the wrong end of Kolya's plan for revenge...much whumpage ensues. Written for the Summer Fic Exchange on Sheppard HC lj community.


This fic was written for the Sheppard HC Exchange over on lj for TheLadyMore. Prompt at the end.

It takes place sometime during Season 4 and pretends that the awful horrible final confrontation between Sheppard and Kolya in the episode "Irresponsible" never happened…

A huge thank you to Grace and Rink Rat for their beta work. It was a lot to read in a short period of time. You both rock! I continued to tinker on the story after they'd finished, so any mistakes that snuck in are totally mine.

And special thanks to JoaniexJony for her encouragement and support.

Through the Looking Glass

Acastus Kolya entwined his fingers behind his back and paced. It was almost time. Nerves and adrenaline worked in tandem to fuel a restlessness that wouldn't let go. He'd suffered too many losses recently. Self doubt had slithered through the cracks and taken root. It clung to him, and every day it made him weaker-to himself and to his men. But that was all about to change. He needed one victory, one victory to prove himself again. To prove the true spirit of the Genii Nation lived within him, as it never had in Laden Radim. With one act he would claim vengeance for his people, a vengeance Radim had denied them by collaborating with the enemy. Radim was a traitor: He and those who followed him were not Genii.

Kolya shivered with anticipation. The days of hiding were nearly over. He felt his heart quicken. He clenched his hands into fists to prevent them from shaking. He was so close. The Old World would burn and a new nation would rise out of the ashes. His dark eyes glittered as he ran one hand along the smooth rock of the wall. He didn't know if this was a natural cave formation or something his ancestors had designed in eons past. The Genii had long since forgotten about this ancient stronghold. Kolya had stumbled across its existence in a journal that belonged to his great-grandfather. The Genii had always had an exit strategy, a refuge to which they could evacuate the elite and powerful in order to ensure the survival of their culture. The ring's address was a state secret, known only by a select few and when those few finally died, the knowledge had died with them. As for the ring, it was ingenious: encased in a steel contraption that worked very much like the Ancient Shield that protected the Atlantis ring. As far as anyone knew, this planet no longer had a working ring.

It had been the perfect place for him to hide when his last attempt to oust Radim had fallen apart. Kolya's gut clenched. He'd really thought Dr. Weir would exchange Radim for her much beloved Colonel. He had bet everything on it. But she'd refused. Then Sheppard had formed an unbelievable alliance with that Wraith, and it had all fallen apart. He'd run. Like a scared little schoolgirl, he'd run. Anger coursed through him. At every turn he'd underestimated Colonel Sheppard. Agitatedly he paced the small room, his boots crunching on the gravel strewn dirt floor. He'd taken one small measure of satisfaction out of that failed last mission: that Sheppard wouldn't live long after the Wraith feedings he'd endured. That the man who'd been responsible for the greatest losses the Genii people had endured outside of a Wraith culling would soon be dead. Then the news had come that Sheppard not only lived but thrived. His youth somehow returned.

Kolya's eyes darkened with rage. He could pinpoint exactly when things had begun to go wrong. When the failures had begun to pile up, one after the other. And one man. One man was responsible for starting it all. One man had undermined his position with his people, killed over sixty Genii on his watch and escaped retribution. One man had assisted Ladin Radim in stealing what was rightfully his. And that man would pay. Oh would he pay. And then he'd take care of Radim. He took a deep breath and released.

"Sir?"

"Yes?" Kolya waved the blond youth inside the room.

"Joaquim sent me. We have him."

Kolya smiled. It was time.

Teyla pulled her hands into her lap and bit her lip, fighting back tears. Ronon and Rodney sat on either side of her bed, both men stony faced and silent. She knew how they felt. In the past year they'd suffered loss after loss. Carson. Elizabeth. And now… The tears broke, streaming down her face. She felt Ronon slip his hand into hers and squeeze. She gripped his hand gratefully. People constantly underestimated Ronon's capacity for gentleness, but underneath the rough exterior was one of the most caring men she'd ever met.

"None of this makes any sense," Rodney stood up so fast that the stool he'd been sitting on clattered to the floor. He ignored it and began to pace. "You and Colonel Sheppard go to see some trader who's suddenly selling Ancient tech and within seconds of stepping through the gate you're attacked."

Eyes still brimming with tears, Teyla recounted, "Halling noticed a trader named Aldus selling items he believed to be Ancient in origin. Halling has known Aldus for years; his usual wares are baubles and pretty clothes. When Halling asked him where he'd obtained such unusual objects, Aldus got nervous. He tried to pack up and go. After some time, Halling convinced Aldus to speak with me and Colonel Sheppard. When we got to the planet, two men I've never seen before were waiting for us. Someone hit me from behind, and then one of the men shot Colonel Sheppard point blank in the chest." Teyla's face blanched. "I saw him fall."

"Rodney's right," Ronon tipped his chair back and stared thoughtfully at Teyla. "Why did they leave you alive? And why would they take Sheppard's body?"

"The first man said that 'he' only wanted Sheppard," Teyla recounted.

"How do we know for sure Sheppard's dead?" Rodney came to a stop at the end of Teyla's bed.

"He didn't have a pulse, Rodney," Teyla's voice shook at the memory, of painfully crawling over to her team leader's still body, the sight of the blood soaking through his jacket, and the silence that met her fingers when she'd placed them on his neck. She twisted the bedcovers restlessly in her hands.

"Something's not right here," Ronon insisted, stubbornly crossing his arms.

"John's dead, of course something's not right," Teyla cried, drawing her knees to her chest.

"That trader Aldus, he's dead too, you know." Ronon chewed on his lower lip. Fluidly he set the chair down and stood. "We owe it to Sheppard to find out what happened and why." His dark eyes glinted with anger. "And if he's truly dead, we owe it to him to bring his body home."

"I'm coming with you," Rodney shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He glanced up at Ronon. "He'd do the same for me."

"He'd do the same for any of us," Teyla agreed, her voice thick with grief. "I should be with you."

"Uh uh," Ronon said gently, putting a restraining hand on Teyla's leg. "Not until Dr. Keller releases you." He motioned to Rodney. "Let's go."

Tears still wet on her cheeks, Teyla clutched at her pillow and gave in to her grief.

SGASGASGASGASGASGASGASGA

He groaned. His head pounded. He tried to remember where he was, but his mind was clouded and foggy. He thought he remembered being shot. A gun aimed at his chest. Then pain. Then nothing. Was he dead? No. That wasn't right. He wouldn't feel such pain if he was dead, would he? But he wasn't on Atlantis. He knew that. There was no comforting whisper in the back of his mind letting him know he was home. Safe. He most definitely was not home. And something told him that he most definitely was not safe.

He tried to lift his hand to massage his aching forehead, but his wrist caught on something cold and hard. Alarm began sweeping a path through his muddled senses. He was sitting in an uncomfortable chair, not lying down on a soft bed; both arms and legs were restrained. He groaned again, and his tongue tangled on something hard and metal crammed into his mouth. It pulled cruelly at the corners of his lips.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to wake up, Colonel Sheppard."

John's eyes jerked open at the sound of the familiar voice. He winced and felt tears sting the corners of his eyes and he blinked rapidly in an attempt to diminish the pain.

"Gmmgghhh," John attempted to speak before he remembered the gag in his mouth. He glowered at the man towering in front of him.

Acastus Kolya smiled broadly.

John shook his head, straining against the restraints, ignoring the pain the movement spiked in his body. His tongue worked at the metal bit in his mouth.

"You can struggle all you want," Kolya grinned. "I learned my lesson the last time. You're not going anywhere Colonel Sheppard. You'll remain restrained throughout your time with us and you'll remain gagged." Kolya wagged his finger at his prisoner. "No talking anyone into helping you to escape this time." Kolya chuckled. "I have to say, it was impressive. I never would have thought you'd form an alliance with a Wraith. I underestimated you." Kolya's smile chilled and his voice grew cold. "I won't do so again."

Abruptly John stilled and glared fiercely at the former Genii commander. He refused to let his eyes betray his fear. Obviously Aldus set them up. Which meant that Kolya might have Teyla held captive somewhere as well. He needed to know where. He needed to know if she was okay. And he needed a plan, a plan to get both himself and Teyla out of the off-his-rocker Genii's clutches and back home safe to Atlantis. He twisted his head against the gag in his mouth, but it wouldn't budge.

Kolya folded his hands behind his back and smiled down at his prisoner. "I'm sure you have questions," he said conversationally. "Let me see if I can answer some of them for you."

Kolya slowly paced the room and it was then that John noticed he was facing a long table with three empty chairs.

"First, your team won't be coming for you, Colonel Sheppard. You see, they believe you're dead. Miss Emmagan saw you shot before her very eyes," Kolya laughed with delight. "Of course, what she didn't realize is we staged the shooting and dosed you with a drug that temporarily stopped your heart. I hear she was quite distraught when she felt for a pulse and couldn't find one."

John growled, throwing his body fiercely against the restraints. He didn't know what he expected to accomplish; he just wanted to wipe the proud grin off his tormentor's face. As his body jerked to a stop, he realized the chair was also bolted to the floor. He panted, his tongue pushing angrily against the metal bit in his mouth.

"Oh, don't worry," Kolya smiled broadly, patting John lightly on the cheek. "Other than a slight blow to the head, I'm told Miss Emmagan was perfectly fine when my men left her. We needed her alive to share her tale with your people, after all."

John yanked his head away from Kolya's hand, his eyes burning with hatred and anger. He'd never killed in a fit of rage before, but he knew if he was free he'd kill Kolya with his bare hands. He'd choke the life out of the smug son of a bitch and watch with pleasure as his delighted smile turned to fear and the life left his cruel eyes. He jerked again at the restraints.

Kolya bent down, grabbing John's chin with his hand and forcing his prisoner to look him in the eyes.

"Understand Colonel Sheppard," Kolya hissed. "You're not leaving here alive. You've been brought here to face the tribunal of the new Genii Nation. You've been found guilty of crimes of war and you will be judged and sentenced. We will finally get justice for your murderous actions during the strike on Atlantis."

John shook his head, wrenching his chin from Kolya's grasp. His tongue worked at the bit and he stopped himself just in time from another humiliating attempt at speech.

"Ah," Kolya looked up and smiled as four men filed into the room. Three of them took seats at the table. The fourth took a position at John's side. "I believe we're about ready to begin." He patted John's shoulder and stepped back.

John sat up as straight as he could and stared coldly at each of the men at the table, his eyes telling what his voice couldn't: they were cowards, each and every one. Unfortunately, none of them seemed to care what their prisoner thought of them. The man to the far left began to speak.

"Colonel John Sheppard of Atlantis: you've been found guilty of crimes against the Genii Nation. Sixty Genii found death at your hands and you will be made to account for those deaths."

John shook his head in disgust and glared at Kolya. Kolya smirked back.

"This then is your sentence. First, you will look each of the sixty men and women you murdered in the eyes, paying tribute to the lives you so brutally stole. Second, in tribute to the last moments of those who died behind Atlantis' shield, you will be entombed alive, one day for each life you took. At the end of sixty days, you will be executed by poison and left for eternity in that very tomb. Such is Genii justice."

The man standing to John's left stepped forward, bowing his head towards John's judges and executioners. Eyes lowered, he said softly, "With all due respect, according to Genii Tribunal Law, the prisoner should be given at this time a chance to respond to the accusation and sentencing."

"There is nothing this man can say," Kolya snarled harshly. "Step back Donal. You were not brought here to speak on the prisoner's behalf. Do as you're told."

"Yes Commander," Donal lowered his head and shuffled back out of John's line of sight.

"Such is Genii justice," Kolya shouted expectantly.

"Such is Genii justice," repeated the Genii.

Kolya nodded with satisfaction and rubbed his hands together excitedly. "It's time to begin."

John tensed, unsure what to expect next. One of the men at the table pulled down a large screen while the other two took up positions at John's side. The man Kolya had called Donal knelt behind John's chair and began fiddling with something. John heard a metallic scraping sound. Futilely he struggled. The two men caught his head in their hands, shoving the back of his head against a metal plate Donal had just screwed into place. Donal placed a leather strap around his forehead, securing it to the metal plate. Donal then fit another leather strap around John's chin. When Donal had finished, John discovered he couldn't move his head an inch.

Stubbornly John closed his eyes. He might be their prisoner, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. They couldn't force him to watch their picture show. But then he felt fingers force his left eyelid open and he couldn't prevent a gasp as he felt a metallic object slip around his eyeball, forcing his eyelid to remain open. The process was repeated on his right eye. Kolya bent down in front of him and smiled.

"Excellent," Kolya crowed, clapping his hands. "We're ready then."

What ensued was a slide show of face after face of men and women, dead at John's hands. In one, a handsome man held a laughing little girl. In another, a woman beamed at the camera on what had to be her wedding day. Still another showed a boy, barely eighteen, wearing the equivalent of military dress whites flanked on each side by proud parents.

Periodically Donal washed John's burning eyes with a moisture solution, and John guessed the man had to be some kind of physician or medical personnel. To this point, he'd refused to think about what his persecutors meant by entombing him for two months. If they really planned on burying him alive, they couldn't possibly think he'd survive long enough to have the chance to shoot him up with poison. Starvation and lack of water would do the killing for them.

As picture after picture flashed on the screen, John felt his heartbeat begin to quicken. Everything was happening so fast. He forced himself to take slow deep breaths. Even if they buried him alive, he couldn't give up hope. He'd just have to find some way to escape. And he wouldn't write off his team just yet either. They may not have fallen for Kolya's games and could be searching for him right now.

The screen went blank. John felt himself beginning to cave in to panic. He'd been in Kandahar when a Taliban bomb had flattened an entire building, trapping most of its occupants alive inside the rubble. They'd been unable to safely reach many of them and had been forced to listen to the screams and moans of the trapped through long days and longer nights. It had given John nightmares.

Again he struggled against his bonds, determining that he'd either escape or force them to kill him before they could get him into any tomb. They had to release him from the restraints to move him; that's when he'd get his chance.

"Donal," Kolya motioned towards the physician. "Prepare our guest for his burial."

All hope fled then, for they didn't release him from his bonds, at least not the way he'd expected. They made no move to release him from the leather straps pinning his head in place or from the clips that forced his eyelids open. His entire body jerked in surprise when he felt a long needle pierce the top of his neck. He moaned; his tongue gnashed against the metal bit, his eyes leaking tears. The pain as the needle slid into his spine was as intense as the bite of the eratus bug.

A strange sensation began to creep down his arms and legs. He wasn't numb, exactly, but it was like his limbs had turned to jelly. He could feel them, but he could not get them to respond to his will to move. Finally the needle slid back out. He felt the tears sliding down his cheeks.

Kolya bent down, his eyes nearly feverish with delight. "I told you, John. I told you I'd learned. There will be no escape for you. Not this time."

Donal removed the eye clips and the leather straps as two of the men from the tribunal removed the cuffs from his arms and legs. He was lifted then, utterly helpless to use that moment for escape, and carried deeper in the room. As they moved, John realized they were actually in a cave. Within the stone walls he saw an opening, around six feet wide but no more than a foot tall.

"Stop," Kolya said.

The men carrying him came to a halt. His body hung limply. Every command his mind gave to his limbs to move was ignored.

"Take a good look, Colonel Sheppard," Kolya licked his lips in anticipation. "That's where you're going to spend the rest of your days." With a jerk of his head, Kolya motioned the men to continue walking. They paused again, giving John a chance to take a good look at the table they were about to lay him on. It looked like an operating table, but there were strips of metal where it was clear his arms and legs were supposed to go. Periodically along the sides and ends of the metal strips were small holes. A half moon strip of metal, also laced with several small holes, arched over the head of the table.

The men placed John on the table, moving his limbs into the spread eagle position dictated by the metal strips. His boots and socks were pulled off and then his bare feet were fitted and propped against metal plates. Donal approached the table, pulling a tray table with him. John watched as Donal picked up a pair of scissors, and he couldn't help but send a pleading look in the man's direction. But the physician avoided his eyes, though John could have sworn the man uttered a silent apology under his breath as he began to cut away John's clothing, beginning with his black t-shirt and then moving to his BDU's.

The three men on the tribunal had gathered at the foot of the table. Kolya remained just to John's right, watching Donal's every move with barely suppressed excitement.

John stared up at the ceiling. His cheeks were flaming red but he was determined to cling to his pride. He knew he was on the edge of losing it, but he couldn't let it happen. This was psychological torture, Kolya's specialty. He had no doubt that everything Donal was doing had been scripted by Kolya, designed to unbalance him, to humiliate him, but John wasn't going to give the freak the pleasure. He could do what he wanted to John's body, but he wasn't going to give him access to his mind or his soul. If he was lucky, death would come quickly, more quickly than Kolya was counting on.

At least he could close his eyes now, and he did so as Donal removed his boxers and then maneuvered John's hips to give him better access to his groin. John bit at the gag as he felt Donal take his manhood in his hands. His heart began to race and in his mind he screamed at his muscles to move, to do something, anything, to stop what was happening to him. The drug they'd shot into him did nothing to stop the intense feeling of discomfort as Donal began to feed a tube into John's urethra. It seemed to go on forever, and John couldn't stop the groan from building or the tears of relief that filled his eyes when the insertion finally stopped and the tubing was taped into place.

Donal moved back to John's head next, a needle in his hands. Carefully Donal turned John's head to the side. John could still move his head, and he attempted to shake Donal off, but Kolya was there in an instant, roughly forcing John's cheek to the table, giving Donal the access he needed to John's neck. John couldn't help the gasp from escaping as the needle pierced his skin. Kolya let go of John's head as Donal finished inserting the IV and hung the bag from a rack next to the table.

Again John's heart sped up. A catheter and an IV? It suddenly became clear to him how Kolya was planning to keep him alive for two months. And he knew his wish for a quick death was not going to be met.

"Put him on the monitor next," Kolya said, his eyes gleaming with unnatural eagerness.

John twisted his head from side to side. Not once in his entire military career had he enjoyed any of the pain he knew he'd caused in order to protect and defend his country and Atlantis. Not even when it involved the Wraith. But something inside Kolya had snapped, and his pleasure seemed to increase with every humiliation visited on John's body. And as he realized Donal was placing heart monitor leads on his chest, it appeared Kolya wasn't willing to be satisified with just John's body. John's attempts to hide his true feelings of fear and panic from the insane Genii commander was about to be thwarted.

As the monitor came to life, his heart was racing. Too rapid blips announced his true emotions and as John saw Kolya grin, he was more determined than ever to force himself to portray a calm he didn't feel. He focused on his heart rate, on making his heart slow down. And then the next abomination began.

John felt his lips parted. Before he could even grasp what was happening, something plastic had been slipped around the sides of his mouth, forcing his lips wide apart. The plastic was secured to several prongs next to John's head. Even as the metal gag was removed, something that looked like what an orthodontist would use to make a mold of their patient's teeth was fitted around the teeth of his upper and lower jaws.

"I need you to bite firmly into them," Donal said, his eyes betraying his own discomfort.

"Frrsscchhht u," John garbled.

And then again Kolya stepped in, all too eager to clamp John's jaws shut with his hands, forcing John's teeth further into the goo in the metal cups.

John let his eyes show the disgust he felt for Kolya and he took a small measure of satisfaction in hearing his heart rate slow down to nearly normal as that one small act of defiance pushed back the panic.

"That should be enough," Donal said softly, cautiously edging Kolya aside and carefully removing the molds from John's mouth.

John took a deep breath, swallowing convulsively as, other than the contraption holding his lips wide open, his mouth was finally free of obstruction for the first time since he'd regained consciousness. He was about to try and test his ability to speak when Donal fitted a wedge in between John's upper and lower mouth, forcing his jaws wide open and preventing any possibility of speech.

He glowered at Kolya and again strained to move his body. He felt a finger twitch and a small hope that he might get his movement back before they finished doing whatever it was they were doing bolstered his will to escape. Then he saw Donal give him a small shake of his head, and he knew the doctor had seen it. But the physician's face didn't show concern, but something more like sadness. It was then that John found out what the holes in the metal strips were for.

Donal picked up another needle, injecting something into the middle of each of John's palms, making them go numb. Donal picked up his next instrument and John gurgled in protest. Unable to look away, John watched in horror as each of his hands was pierced by metal rods, securing his flesh to the metal strips. As the rods pierced his skin he heard sizzling and the smell of burning flesh wafted towards his nostrils.

Kolya bent next to his ear and whispered, "I told you that you weren't getting away this time. I've thought of everything. My only regret is you won't be able to feel the pain as each bolt is slid through your hands and feet. Donal convinced me you might die of shock if we attached you to the table without something for the pain."

John's heart raced. He cried out, attempting to buck his body away from the table. Movement was slowly returning and he managed to kick out with his legs. But he was weak and when two of the Genii tribunal pinned his legs against the metal strips, he was helpless to stop it. He felt himself piss and even as his cheeks flamed red at Kolya's laugh of pleasure, he found himself grateful for the catheter. At least he hadn't soiled himself as well.

Donal's hands shook slightly before he moved down towards John's feet. His voice was a feathery whisper. "The wounds were cauterized as the bolts slid in. You probably won't experience much discomfort from them later."

John shook his head from side to side and stared desperately up at the ceiling. He couldn't help the tears that slid from his eyes as Donal pierced the soles of his feet with the syringe. He pissed again as he heard the sizzle and smelled his own flesh burning. He fought a rising nausea. His heart raced in staccato time, and John wondered if even with the pain medication he might still die right now from shock. Maybe if he was lucky, he would. Within minutes, both his feet had been bolted to the metal plates.

Donal moved to John's calves and thighs next. Although instead of putting bolts through John's limbs, he was content to simply secure them with straps of leather. He did the same to John's forearms and biceps. Then he stepped up to John's head.

Tears still spilling from his eyes, John shook his head, silently pleading as Donal began to maneuver the metal strip hovering over his head, fitting screws through each of the holes. Donal refused to look at John as he once again took a needle in his hand and efficiently injected the medication into multiple spots on John's head, each correlating with one of the holes in the metal bar. His head completely numb, John uttered a long groan against the intense pressure as Donal slowly screwed the metal rods into his skull.

When John was fifteen, a friend of his had made the mistake of diving head first into a shallow pool. He'd broken his neck and had spent the next six months with metal rods secured to his skull in what his doctors had called a halo device. It had kept his head and neck perfectly still. Kolya's device served the same purpose. John couldn't even move his head to the side. He was completely trapped. Kolya was going to force him to endure sixty days in complete and utter stillness and silence.

And John knew if he could have spoken at that moment, he would have begged Donal for the poison.

"We're almost done," Donal said quietly, his fingers ghosting over John's bare shoulder. He stepped away from the table and when he returned he had the results of the molds he'd taken of John's teeth in his hands. It looked like some odd combination of a pacifier and a mouth guard a football player would use.

"This should be more comfortable than the other gag," Donal whispered in John's ear, his eyes jerking fearfully towards Kolya.

Quickly, Donal plucked out the wedge prying John's mouth open and carefully fitted John's teeth into the rubber replica he'd made of John's mouth. He released John's lips from the plastic clips and massaged them over the rubber casing, fitting them comfortably around a small circular piece of rubber protruding from the molding in John's mouth. Finally, he secured a leather strap over John's mouth, snuggly snapping it into place around the prongs placed near John's cheeks.

John had to admit the doctor was right. The rubber didn't bite into his checks the way the metal bit had and there was more room for his tongue. He was able to swallow without feeling like he was about to drown. He hated how intensely grateful he was for that.

Tears slowly sliding down his cheeks, John finally accepted the hopelessness of his situation. His ability to hang on to hope, his ability to come up with out of the box ideas to overcome adversity had been what had gotten him through numerous dangerous situations. But this time he was completely helpless. Kolya had seen to that. John had underestimated the depths of the Genii's hatred and he was paying for it now. He would pay for it until his mind finally broke under the strain of the solitary confinement and then his body would finally give way as well when they flushed the poison through his veins.

"It's time to place on the lid," Donal said, tucking a light sheet around John's bare body.

"Goodbye John," Kolya smiled, giving John a small wave.

Kolya's pleased grin was the last thing John saw before the three men from the tribunal slid a large metal lid over the table on which John was pinned. There were several holes. A couple for the catheter, IV and monitor lines and one larger one John assumed was for the air required to keep him alive during his confinement.

Darkness descended. John heard the lid being soldered shut and then he felt the table moving. He heard metal sliding against rock and then the only sound he heard was the beating of his own heart. It seemed to get louder and louder with each beat. It whooshed through the silence of the tomb; it shook his chest and pounded in his ears. But even worse than the overwhelming sound of his heartbeat was the inability to move. His body ached for the release of movement. The darkness weighed down on him. He couldn't scream, the gag holding back the breath in his lungs. He'd already lost track of time. It already seemed like he'd been encased in this metal shell for days, weeks, or even years. It was impossible it had only been minutes since this agony had begun.

And then he felt something cold and biting race through his veins. The darkness receded and he began to float. He was no longer in his body, in that prison. He floated in a cloud of white, far beyond the reach of the dark. And he wasn't alone. A vague outline of a figure began to take shape. She had dark hair and she was wearing a white dress. He knew her.

"Elizabeth," John murmured, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair.

"It's good to see you again, John." Elizabeth smiled softly and held him as he cried.

SGASGASGASGASGASGASGASGA

"How long are we going sit here?" Elizabeth asked. She sat cross-legged in the mist, facing him.

"As long as it takes," John shrugged. He sat across from her, tracing circles in the swirling eddies of white fog.

"For you to die?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

John stared off into the distance. The mist seemed to stretch on forever. Time had lost all meaning in this place. But the memory of being trapped in that steel coffin still clung to him, made his heart race and his mind go numb with terror. "I won't go back there," he said fervently, clenching his hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

Gently Elizabeth took his hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. "I've never known you to give up a fight."

"Who are you to talk about giving up Elizabeth?" John sprang to his feet and began pacing in agitation. "You're the one who gave up. You ordered me to go and you stayed. You didn't run. You didn't give me the chance to get you out of there!" He stopped and stared down at her. "I would have fought for you."

"You would have died for me," Elizabeth said, lifting her eyes to catch John's.

"Yes," John whispered, sinking back to the ground.

"So why did you leave?" Elizabeth asked softly.

"Because I could see in your eyes you'd accepted your fate," John said sadly. "And someone who's ready to die can't be saved. I couldn't afford to die that day. Atlantis still needed me, so I ran."

"Atlantis still needs you, John," Elizabeth said.

"No," John shook his head. "She has others to look after her now."

"You're wrong, you know," Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at John.

"If there's one thing I've learned, it's that everyone is replaceable," John said dryly.

"No," Elizabeth said. "You're wrong about me. I never gave up. I fought until the very moment that Oberon shattered my consciousness. My physical body died. And still I continued to fight, to subvert Oberon's coding until finally he destroyed the replicator part of me as well."

"But this is different. There's nothing for me to fight," John said bitterly. "Kolya saw to that. I can't move so much as a pinky finger to get myself out of that tomb and no one knows I'm there. My team thinks I'm dead. No one is coming for me. Obviously my mind has already cracked," John swept a hand towards Elizabeth. "I mean, I'm talking to a dead woman. I'd think I'd rather stay crazy here than go even crazier back there."

"Hmmm…" Elizabeth stared off into the distance. "How do you know that no one came for you?" She looked over at John and asked curiously.

"Because they don't even know I'm alive, much less where I am," John looked at her with incredulity. "It's impossible."

"Just because you can't think of a way doesn't mean it's not possible," Elizabeth noted. She pointed off into the distance. "What do you see over there?"

"Nothing," John said irritably. "There's nothing there to see. I'm in some out of body experience dreamland brought on by the fact that I've gone nuts."

"Look again, John," Elizabeth pressed. "What do you see?"

John turned. And had to admit the mist did appear to be receding. In its wake appeared to be something that looked like spires.

"Atlantis," John breathed. His heart ached at the beauty of it. He really did regret he'd never see her again.

"What else do you see John?" Elizabeth walked towards him and took his arm. She pointed, and again the mist began to recede, swirling wildly as it pulled back.

John staggered with sudden dizziness, and then he was no longer standing. He was lying down, looking up at a ceiling. He was in the infirmary. He would recognize it anywhere. Curtains surrounded his bed and Teyla stood over him, her hand warm on his arm.

"God I hate it when he does that. It creeps me out. If he's going to be in a coma then he should at least have the decency to keep his eyes closed."

"Rodney, Dr. Keller says it's an involuntary reflex," Teyla's voice was reproachful. "Just keep talking to him."

"I'm just saying it's like talking to a vegetable." Rodney stared down at John, a disturbed look on his face. "One who's staring at you."

"Shut up, Rodney!" Ronon peeled himself off the wall where he'd been standing.

"It's been weeks you guys. Weeks!" Rodney waved his hand over John's face. "There's no one in there."

Teyla sighed, sinking down into a chair next to the bed. "We must keep trying, Rodney. We cannot give up hope."

John turned his head. He'd lost track of Elizabeth. Where had she gone?

"Rodney," Teyla gasped. "Go get Dr. Keller. Now!"

Firmly she squeezed John's wrist. "John? Can you hear me?"

John blinked up at her in confusion. "'Eyaa?" He tried to say, but instead gagged on something in his throat and mouth. Panic struck. Any second he expected the infirmary to melt away, leaving him in the black hole of his tomb. Alone. Voiceless. Helpless. His heart rate soared and his vision began to swim.

"John, you must calm down," Teyla said urgently, placing both hands on his shoulders and staring directly into his eyes. "You have a tube down your throat helping you to breathe. You're safe. You're home."

"Hey buddy," Ronon towered over him, a gentle hand on his arm. "Take it easy. Keller's on her way."

But John knew better. His mind was conjuring up images of places to hide; although why it would choose the Atlantis infirmary instead of a beach in Australia he had no idea.

"Colonel Sheppard." Suddenly Dr. Keller was there, smiling down at him. "It's good to see you awake."

John blinked. He also wasn't sure why he would imagine Dr. Keller instead of Carson, or imagine a tube down his throat. He sure did suck at this whole dream state thing: where were the bikini clad girls?

He brought his hand to his face and fumbled weakly at the plastic apparatus holding the tubing in place. Teyla caught his wrist and held it while looking over at Keller. "Can you take the breathing tube out?"

"Not yet," Keller said thoughtfully, studying the readings on the ventilator. She gazed down at her patient. "You've spontaneously started breathing several times over the past week and stopped again just as suddenly. Before I take the tube out, I want to make sure we don't have any more episodes."

John shook his head, struggling to speak. He cringed at the gurgling sounds coming from his throat. Again he tried to grasp the tube, determined to pull it out himself if he had to. Again his wrists were caught and held. He increased his struggles, the heart rate monitor beginning to blip out of control.

"Kelly, get me two mgs of Atavan please," Dr. Keller ordered. She glanced down at John apologetically. "I'm sorry to have to do this John, but it's for your own good." She looked back up at Kelly "Bring me the soft restraints."

"No!" Ronon glared fiercely at the doctor. "No restraints."

"Dr. Keller, take the tube out. Please." Teyla said softly, turning her attention to John. She caught his gaze, looking him fully in the eyes. "John, you must calm down. We are going to take the tube out. I promise. But you must stop struggling."

"Take it easy, Sheppard," Ronon soothed, sitting down at John's side.

John went limp and nodded. He could trust Ronon and Teyla. Even if they weren't real.

Jennifer sighed, weighing the dangers of another respiratory crisis against John's increasing panic. "Okay," she finally nodded. She rested a hand on John's shoulder. "Okay, Colonel. We're going to take the tube out."

As Jennifer removed the tube, John began coughing. He rolled to his side, doubling over. He struggled to breathe. Keller put an oxygen mask to his face.

"Nice deep breaths, Colonel," she instructed, watching her patient carefully.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing in and out. He felt Keller apply a stethoscope to his chest and back.

"Colonel?" Teyla said softly, gently squeezing his arm.

John sighed and opened his eyes. He pulled the mask from his face and smiled at his friend. It was good to see her again, even if this was all just a dream. "Wish…you 'er….real," he whispered painfully.

Teyla looked at him in confusion.

"I got this one, Teyla," Jennifer said, slipping into John's line of sight. She slipped the mask back over his face. "Colonel, you were injected with a drug, a hallucinogen of some sort. The drug was also toxic. I believe it was given to you as a sort of mercy killing. Your body had already begun to shut down by the time we found you. Just after we got you back, you went into full cardiac arrest. We had to put you on life support. For weeks that ventilator was the only thing keeping you alive." She lightly patted his arm. "But you just turned a huge corner. Your hands and feet are healing well and I believe you'll make a full recovery."

Weakly John pushed the mask aside. "This…real?" he asked, his eyes filling with tears.

"For God's sake John, yes we're real," Rodney stepped forward, the gratitude in his eyes belying the aggravation in his voice. "Do I need to hit you to prove it?"

"Rodney," Jennifer groaned.

"What …'bout… Kolya?" John asked. His eyes caught on the gauze covering his hands. His stomach twisted with both hatred and fear.

Gently Teyla pressed the oxygen mask back to his face. "He got away. I'm sorry, John."

John batted the mask aside, his eyes grim. "Gonna…put a bullet ..in him..one day."

"We're gonna put a lot of bullets in him one day," Ronon promised fiercely.

Teyla caught John's wrist, holding it gently but firmly as she replaced the mask. "You must leave that on, John."

Sighing, he let his hand drop to the bed. "I can't b'lieve…you found me..." he said, his voice muffled by the mask.

"When Kolya discovered you'd been injected with that drug, he killed the man responsible. The man's son went to Ladon Radim and told him of Kolya's plans to destroy the Genii homeworld and of what had been done to you. Radim contacted us and together we raided the complex. We couldn't dial directly into the gate on the planet because it was shielded, so we were forced to dial into a gate several planets away and take the jumpers the rest of the way. During the raid, Kolya managed to escape."

John closed his eyes. The room had begun to spin and he was having a hard time focusing.

"The Colonel needs to rest," Jennifer advised. "You can visit with him again later."

John's eyes flew open in panic and he gripped Teyla's hand, hard. "No, don't go. Please."

"I will stay with you John until you fall asleep," Teyla soothed, gently stroking John's brow. "And I will be here when you awake again."

John nodded gratefully, relaxing back into the pillows. He still wasn't convinced that the next time he awoke, he wouldn't be back in that steel box, trapped underground forever.

He closed his eyes. He heard the scraping of several chairs, the tapping of Rodney's fingers on a keyboard, the sound of Teyla's voice as she softly sang an Athosian lullaby, her fingers still wrapped firmly around his wrist.

"We'll all be here when you wake up again Sheppard," Ronon's gruff voice joined the chorus of sound filling his ears.

John drifted into sleep, finally beginning to believe the nightmare was over. Kolya had failed. In time, he'd recover. And then he'd make Acastus Kolya pay for everything he'd done.

Kolya paced the small room, muttering angrily. John Sheppard still lived. He should have seen it. He should have seen that Donal had lost faith, and he should have anticipated the son's betrayal. He set his hands down on the top of a chair and breathed deeply. His revenge had been stolen from him yet again. He gripped the chair and heaved it into the wall, watching in satisfaction as it shattered into a dozen pieces.

He forced himself to breathe slowly. He had lost this battle, but the war still raged on. He would regroup, rebuild his resistance. Ladon Radim would eventually be toppled from power. The Genii Nation would be returned to the old ways and would seize the power that was their due. As for John Sheppard…Kolya's eyes glistened with cold hatred. He clenched his hands into fists and stepped to the window, gazing up at the sky. Revenge would still be his. With absolute certainty he knew, if it was the last thing he ever did, John Sheppard would die at his hands.

Fin

Prompt:

1. Sheppard gets captured by a group of hostile people and is almost killed in a human sacrafice

2. Sheppard is Captured by Kolya

3. Sheppard is burried alive.

(I managed 2 of them for you Lady, hope you liked it!)


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